


A Miraculous Holiday Season

by Bellimoon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Holiday, Multi, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellimoon/pseuds/Bellimoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's December, and our favorite characters are giving in to the holiday spirit! Full of one-shot fluffiness.</p>
<p>((http://unluckyfortunes.tumblr.com/post/134342673326/25-days-of-ladybugs-and-chat-noirs))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir is hoping for a kiss this year, and he thinks that his old friend, mistletoe, might help.

Chat dashed from rooftop to rooftop, a bag of mistletoe in hand. He traveled around the city, tying bundles here and there, masked by early dawn's dimness.

 _With all this mistletoe_ , he reasoned, _there's a chance My Lady will gift me with a kiss!_

Though he'd rather have a sincere kiss (especially one not encouraged by a mere plant!), Chat figured there was no harm in trying. Maybe a fun holiday tradition was all he needed to spur his partner to bestow on him the pleasure of her lips.

With the bag empty and the festive red ribbons depleted, Chat returned home and hoped for the best.

* * *

Ladybug met Chat that evening for their usual patrol on top of the Notre Dame. She was surprised to find him there before her; it was only a stone's throw from her house.

 Ladybug crossed the roof of the cathedral to where he stood, his lips curled into playful smile. She cocked her head, resting her hands on her hips. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"I am in a good mood. Though, if you want specifics, I'd have to say... a hopeful mood." His green eyes seemed to laugh as he brought her fingers to his lips. Chat raised a brow as best as he could behind a mask. "Your hand smells like dough. Do you bake?"

Ladybug snatched her hand back, blushing furiously. For a moment she considered denying the claim, but there was really no harm in admitting she had baked some cookies earlier. After all, how could be possibly connect the smell to her parents' bakery? "Oh, heh, yeah. I, er, made some cookies before."

Chat grinned. "Cookies? Made by My Lady? I'm sure they'd be the best thing anyone has ever had the fortune to taste."

Ladybug smiled. "Thanks, Chat. Maybe if you're good, I'll let you have some tomorrow."

Chat bowed. "Another thing to be hopeful for, today."

"What was it you were hoping for in the first place?"

He didn't answer and instead proposed, "How about we take a stroll around our lovely city? It's such a fine evening. It's almost romantic."

Ladybug ignored Chat's change of subject, replying, "Oh, all right. It really is a nice evening."

She laughed at the twinkle in her partner's green eyes and took the hand he offered to her.

"The night awaits," he said, and dashed across the rooftop, a giggling Ladybug in tow.

The pair ran and jumped and danced across the Paris skyline, having a wonderful December first. The wind tugged at their hair, the slight chill in the air long forgotten.

Chat came to a stop at _La Sainte Chapelle._ They sat under a niche in the architecture, squeezing in together so that they faced the other, legs resting together.

Despite the closeness, Ladybug felt at ease with the boy, one of her closest friends. She grinned at Chat, chest buzzing at the sight of his mirrored expression. In the distance, she could see the lights sparkling on the Seine.

Chat tapped her leg, bringing her blue eyes back to his face. He pointed a clawed finger up. "Ah, My Lady, won't you look at that?"

Curious, Ladybug gazed up... and her jaw dropped. "Chat!" There was a small piece of mistletoe attached to the top of the niche, the white berries like shining pearls.

Chat grinned at her, puckering his lips and winking. She pushed a finger against his mouth and yo-yoed away, laughing despite herself. _He really is silly._

Shecould hear Chat behind her, chuckling as he followed his spotted hero.

Ladybug rested on the Pont Neuf bridge, letting Chat drag her along to one of the seemingly random light posts.

He gave her a coy grin and she looked up to find another bundle of mistletoe tied around the metal. "Oh!"

She pressed the tips of her fingers to his lips, giving Chat a curious look. "Again?"

He took her wrist gently, bringing it down and threading his fingers with hers. "Oh, indeed, and there are many more where those came from."

Ladybug batted her lashes teasingly. "And why would that be, you silly cat?"

"To answer your question from earlier, My Lady, I was hoping I might get lucky enough for a kiss, but seeing as I never seen to have any luck, I thought that the beauty of statistics might be in my favor instead."

Ladybug shook her head. "Sometimes you really are too much. You must really want that kiss."

He winked. "I truly do, but I don't want to pressure you into one."

She peered up into Chat's face, lit up by innocent young love. The thought of kissing her masked friend made her heart flutter, a new, strange sensation. It really _was_ quite the romantic night, so she decided to give him a small reward for making her evening.

Chat's eyes widened in surprise as she stood on her tiptoes and planted a smacking kiss on his nose. " _Mwah_."

Ladybug and Chat flushed a matching red.

"Now," she said, tilting her face down to hide her blush. "Won't you be a gentleman and walk me back to the Notre Dame?"

"Y-yes, My Lady!"

 


	2. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Alya warm up with hot chocolate!

The chilly winter air bit Marinette's cheeks, pushing her to pull up her scarf.

"It's getting colder," she complained to Alya as they walked the shopping district together.

Alya linked arms with her best friend. "Yeah," she agreed, puffing out a white  cloud of breath. "I'm half hoping for snow and half not wanting to freeze my face off."

Marinette mumbled incoherently into the scarf pulled over her mouth.

"What?"

She tugged the fabric down, instantly feeling the nip of cold air on the lower part of her face. "I said, 'a hot drink would be really great right now.'"

Alya smiled at her. "Hey, why not? I've got some pocket change to drop on a couple cups of hot chocolate."

Marinette rubbed her hands together and leaned into her friend for warmth. "Oh, thank you! You're the bestest friend in the whole wide world."

Alya chuckled. "Not exactly grammatically correct, but thanks, I try." She winked, and the pair ducked into the nearest café for a drink.

The café was decked out in holiday tinsel, red, green, and white splashed all throughout the room. The line to the cashier was fairly long, but the two didn't mind the wait; the café was warm and inviting.

This particular place featured a whole array of hot chocolate flavors, from original to  pumpkin, and even orange. In their own collum were add-ins, such as chocolate powder, whipped cream, and marshmallows.

Wide-eyed, Marinette scanned the menu board. "Hmm... oh, well, uh," She prodded her lip. "There's so many to chose from! Alya, do help!"

Alya just shook her head, she too in awe at the many variations. "Mexican Chili? C-cupcake?"

When they reached the front, they just picked two of the simpler drinks.

 

At last, they had their hot chocolate in hand, rolls of steam wafting from the foam cups.

Marinette cautiously sipped her beverage. The hot chocolate was peppermint flavored and had been topped with a large dallop of whipped cream.

"Switch," Alya chimed, and the girls swapped drinks for a taste of the other's order. Alya had chosen a cinnamon flavored drink, spotted with mini marshmallows.

"Ah, I can't decide which one I like more!" Marinette claimed another sip before trading back. _Indirect kiss_ , she thought faintly.

"That's good, right? I mean, now you know what to get next time instead of spending five minutes on what to buy."

Marinette grinned. "Yeah, and next time better be soon! But this time, I'll pay."


	3. Snow Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow has fallen, so Marinette and the gang decide to make snow angels!

“Oh my gosh, it’s _snowing_!” Marinette pressed her nose to the frosted window, gazing excitedly outside at the drifting flakes. Already a few inches of snow had accumulated on the ground, covering everything in a cold, white powder.

Alya perked up, crossing Marinette's living room in seconds to peer outside. “Wow, you're right!” She waved her hands towards the two boys sitting on the couch. “Guys, c’mere, it’s already all over the ground.”

Adrien and Nino hurried to join the girls, the four of them squeezing in the small window space.

“Neat,” nodded Nino, who pulled out his phone to snap a picture. “Want to go outside? We can hit the park.”

The friends cheered in unison, already itching to feel the snow on their skin.

Marinette squealed, “It’s the year’s first snow,” she cooed, “Paris is officially a winter wonderland!”

Adrien chuckled. “If it continues to snow, Ladybug and Chat Noir will have a harder time getting around the city. All the rooftops will be icy and slippery.”

Alya pouted. “Oh, you're right. My Ladyblog will suffer if they start patrolling less often. How else am I supposed to get pictures aside from akuma attacks?”

“I’m sure they have something planned for the winter, Alya,” Nino shrugged. “They're superheroes, I’m sure they'll figure something out.”

Marinette was embarrassed to think that she had not yet considered what to do during the colder season. She promised herself to make some winter apparel for she and Chat.

The group trickled down the staircase and out the door, grabbing their coats before heading towards the city park just across the street.

The statue of the city’s heros were dusted with snow, a decent sized cap on their heads. The rest of the park was fairly uninhabited, leaving the gaggle of teens free to jump about without being much of a bother.

Marinette scooped up a handful of snow, tossing it into the air. “Lucky Charm,” she called, giggling. The snow fell to the ground, some collecting on Marinette's hair and shoulders.

Adrien grinned. “You sound almost exactly like her,” he said, and brushed some of the snow from the top of her coat.

Marinette flushed red, hoping no one would connect the dots, though the “almost” part was enough to bring a snort from her. She shivered at his touch, letting Adrien believe it was from the cold. Marinette was doing so well not to stutter in front of her crush, and she hoped her lucky streak would last.

Behind Adrien she saw Alya jump into the air, falling down on her rear before leaning back against the ground. “Snow angels,” she trilled, and began moving her limbs against the snow.

“Aw, yeah,” Nino laughed, following Alya’s example. His hat slid from his head, but Nino had either not noticed or ignored it.

Adrien grinned at Marinette, his pearly-whites shining as  bright as the snow underfoot. “Let’s go join them, Marinette,” he prompted, and ran towards their friends on the park ground.

Marinette followed, throwing herself down and swishing her arms and legs to form the angel imprint. She laughed along with the others, everyone coated in snow. Her back was absolutely _freezing_ , though at the moment Marinette didn't mind very much.

When they stood up to admire their work, the friends were soaking wet as the snow melted on their skin and clothes.

“I-I think we should go back inside,” Marinette insisted, teeth chattering. The others nodded, and they huddled back to Marinette’s family bakery in a soggy pack.

Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng welcomed the teens back, mugs of hot cocoa waiting for them in the kitchen.

They shook off their coats, slipped their feet from their shoes, and huddled by a mini heater, already making plans to play in the snow the next day.


	4. Decorating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Adrien's mother vanished from his life, his lonely home had almost forgotten the holiday decor she used to put up every year... almost.

Adrien stood by the large bedroom window, staring longingly across the street at all of the decorative houses. As usual, his dull and empty house mansion was a complete mood-killer… if you weren't already drab and depressing.

The holiday decor that adorned every window and roof, every tree and shrub, every street lamp and mailbox, made his heart ache for the jolly spirit that was his mother.

Adrien slumped to the floor, a familiar pang shooting through his chest.  _His mother_.

She had been a bright star that had never let any room in the house go without even the smallest piece of decoration. Even the bathroom towels had been replaced in favor of the embroidered holiday variety. With her around, the entire place felt ten times warmer. Oh, how he wished she was still here.

Plagg swooped down to rest on Adrien's knee. "What's the matter, huh, kid?"

Adrien looked at the kwami with green eyes filled with sadness. "I'm just missing my mother. All the decorations remind me of her."

He recalled the enormous fir tree that usually sat in the corner of the expansive living room downstairs. At the top, above all of the many baubles and fairy-lights, there would be a shining, golden star. Every year, Adrien would climb to the top and stick it on, his mother watching as his spotted him from down below. Whenever he looked down from way up top on the ladder, her beaming face greeted him with warmth and love.

The ache in Adrien's chest was too much to deal with alone. He brushed off his cat-like companion and swept his cellphone from the desk on the other side of his bedroom. Dialing his best friend's number, he flopped on top of the bed and laid his arm over his eyes. Plagg hovered above him, uncharacteristically silent. The call rang until Nino picked up.

"Hey," came the comfortingly familiar voice of his friend. "What's up?"

"Hi," Adrien replied, "I was just wondering if you want to come over." He bit the side of his cheek, half debating whether or not to add onto his proposal. "Would you mind helping me decorate? It's a big house and I don't want to bother the staff about it."

"Yeah, of course. When should I come over?"

"Whenever you can," answered Adrien. He sat up and left his room, dashing over to the storage room, where, if he remembered correctly, the old decorations were packed away.

"Sure, man. I'm heading out right now. See you there." Adrien waited for the customary click signaling the end of the line and stuck his phone in his back pocket.

The stack of cardboard boxes was bigger than he remembered. Dozens of them lined one side of the room, all neatly labeled in his mother's neat penmanship.  _Glass baubles, ribbons, snowflakes,_  read some of them.

Without waiting for Nino's arrival, Adrien began bringing some of the lighter boxes outside and lifting up the flaps. A small cloud of dust rose into his face as the cardboard lids were jerked to the side, sending the boy into a coughing fit.

After ceasing the coughs, Adrien peered into the first box. The several strings of tiny silver bells gleamed under the bright lights in the hall. _These can be lined up along the doors_ , he decided. That way they could jingle softly every time someone went through a door.

After spending a good portion of time untangling the various string decorations, he heard Nino's footsteps come down the hall.

His best friend gave him a small wave. "Ah, they said you'd be here. Need any help with those?"

Adrien shook his head. "Nah, I'm almost done with these. Can you get those, though?" He pushed another box towards Nino, who crouched down and began rummaging through it.

After finishing with the initial boxes, Nino and Adrien worked together to unpack the the rest of the heavier boxes.

A housemaid came down their hall, her face lighting up at the sight of the old decorations. Immediately, she jumped to their aid, delighted that the young sir had taken up his mother's tradition.

"I haven't seen these out since…" the woman trailed off, not wanting to upset the boy.

A shadow passed through Adrien's eyes. "Yeah, I know. I couldn't stand the house like this anymore."

The maid nodded and called for assistance; with the sheer size of the home and the amount of decorations, they would need more people to set everything up in a timely manner.

"You don't have a tree, do you?" Nino asked, opening a box of tree assessories. At the top of the pile was the star, carefully tucked into a wrapping of tissue paper.

"Er… no," Adrien answered lamely, gazing at the star. He inclined his head towards a member of the house staff. "Could you go out and purchase one, please?"

The older man nodded and left, leaving the rest of the now large party to decorate.

As they waited for the new tree, the two boys and the gaggle of staff members traversed about the mansion, setting out the ornaments and figurines and tinsel and bells and everything in between.

Adrien was only half surprised to feel a large smile slide on his face as he worked alongside Nino. He didn't know if his father was even aware of the decorating, but Adrien liked to imagine his father smiling at the sight.

When the tree arrived and was further set up in the typical living room corner, Adrien and Nino took it upon themselves to hang every ornament on the needle-covered branches themselves. Soon, the lights were on and twinkling, the only thing left to do was placing the star at the top.

Adrien held the last piece in his hand, running a finger along one of the peaks. He glanced at Nino, receiving a small, gentle smile.  _Go ahead,_ it said _, I'm here for you._

Adrien swallowed down the lump in his throat, climbing up the ladder. After securing the star in its rightful place, he looked down below, as he had done many years prior. Instead of the shining grin from his mother, he saw his best friend's, the only one who knew him best.

He fought the budding tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks, giving a shaky smile in return.

Nino clapped him on the back softly as he jumped the last steps to the floor. "Nice job, man. I know your mom would be happy."

Adrien nodded, looking around to see the decorations that brightened the room. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'm sure she would be."


	5. Carols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's class is a one-time caroling choir as they sing at a children's hospital.

Marinette's class was practicing to be a caroling chorus. Madame Bustier had pushed the idea, which the principal had finally passed. Now, all of the students under her jurisdiction were going to sing for the children's hospital that day after a long week of rehearsals.

The party climbed onto the bus that Saturday afternoon. Marinette's throat buzzed after the morning's last minute practice. She slid into the window seat, Alya following suit.

"I'm so nervous," she admitted to her friend. "What if I mess up? I could throw off the entire performance!"

Alya patted her shoulder. "Come on, now, Marinette. You've been doing great the past few days. Have a little confidence!"

"Yeah," piqued Rose, the small blonde who had taken the seat behind the pair with her friend, Juleka. "I'm sure you'll do just fine! We didn't rehearse every day after school for nothing, and your voice is so lovely."

Marinette flashed a small, humble smile. "Thanks, Rose. You'll do amazing, too; you sound like an angel. The children will be so happy to hear us all together, don't you think?"

Alya nodded, a wide grin plastered on her face. "Their jaws will absolutely  _drop_  when they hear us sing. We sound  _amazing_." She sang the last word, drawing it out dramatically.

From the row across sat the joining pair to the typical group of four. Adrien sat by the window, leaving Alya and Nino free to chatter across the aisle. "Have you guys ever been caroling before?" Nino asked.

Marinette, Alya, and Rose shook their heads. To everyone's surprise, Juleka replied, "I have. It's pretty fun." No one had really expected the quiet goth to have sung merry holiday tunes in a caroling choir before.

"That's cool," Adrien smiled. "I think it's easier to sing in a group. I don't think I'd be very good in a solo."

Marinette shook her head. "I think you'd be great! Your singing is great." She flushed, embarrassed at her repetitive outburst. "I-I mean… um, yeah!"

Marinette leaned back in her seat, hiding behind Alya's form. She covered her face in her hands, Alya patting her hair.

The bus ride only took 10 minutes, dropping the class off at the hospital. The staff welcomed them in, directing them to the first section of the patients' hall where children gathered to watch.

"All right, class," began Madame Bustier. "You've done an excellent job all week. Don't be nervous and remember: stay in tune, know the lines, and most importantly, have fun!"

The makeshift caroling party assembled into position, throats clearing.

Marinette's heart jumped into her throat. There were so many eyes, so many opportunities to be horribly judged. It had taken her a while to get used to singing in front of her classmates, but now, with all of these strangers…

She felt Alya's hand latch onto hers. Her friend gave her fingers a comforting squeeze as the music started up. Marinette blinked, swallowed, and began to sing.

Alya wasn't joking; the class  _did_  sound great. The children and watching hospital staff smiled, some moving and humming along.

As the songs continued, Marinette's nerves cooled and her confidence grew. See, she could do this just fine! Marinette didn't stumble over the words or forget the lyrics. She caroled alongside her classmates, relishing in the happy mood they brought with their voices.

The group moved from floor to floor, singing until the darkness began to spot the sky outside.

Finally, it was time for the bus to bring the students back to the  _collège_. Marinette was tired from standing and singing for the few hours that they spent in the hospital.

She leaned against Alya on the ride back, eyelids drooping. If her throat wasn't scratchy, Marinette would have talked all the way back. Thankfully there wasn't much conversation to miss; everyone felt the same way.

All in all, the day spent caroling was a good one. In fact, if given the choice, she would have done it again.


	6. Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and her father bake a pie, but Marinette is too impatient to wait for it to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell behind on day 6, but I'll get that up sooner or later!

"What kind of pie should we bake, Marinette?" Mr. Dupain-Cheng stood with his daughter in the bakery kitchen, pie crust ingredients spread across the counters.

The girl in question tilted her head in thought. "Hmm, how about apple pie? With," she added, "cinnamon enhancements?"

Marinette's father clapped his hands together. "Cinnamon Apple it is," he confirmed.

Marinette had lived so long in the baking world that she knew the steps to make a pie by heart (and cookies? Pshh! She can make them in her sleep with both hands tied behind her back. Well, not really, but you get the point.)

After setting the oven, Marinette pulled the proper filling ingredients from the shelves and pantries as her father began on the crust. Out came several apples, cinnamon, nutmeg, and lemon juice; some of the other ingredients were already out. She began peeling and slicing the apples, dumping the pieces into a bowl along with the other essential parts needed for the apple filling. She stirred the bowl's contents, coating the apple slices in the mixture.

When her father finished with the crust, Marinette dumped the apples into the crust's depression, leveling out the filling as flat as needed be. Next came the top crust and Marinette's father crimped and slit it.

Pushing the pie tin into the heated oven, Marinette helped her father clean the workstation, washing dishes and wiping down the countertops. "Now we have to wait a long, long time," she sighed. "Baking it isn't even the longest part of the whole process; waiting for the pie to cool takes absolutely  _forever_!" Sure, she was exaggerating, but having to sit while smelling the delicious, just baked, fresh-out-of-the-oven dessert? Complete. Torture.

Mr. Dupain-Cheng chuckled. "Come on, Marinette, I'm sure you'll be able to take your mind off of the pie. You know how easily caught up you can get in other things. Why don't you work on one of your sewing projects for the time being? Or better yet, homework?"

Marinette stuck out her tongue, pantomiming a gag. "Aw, no thanks! Sewing is fine for now." The girl escaped to her room, biding her time until the pie was ready. It was hard, though, as time went on and the sweet smells wafted up all the way to her room.

Unfortunately, sewing did not hold Marinette's attention for long. She shuffled back to the kitchen, leaning against the bakery's brick wall. The apple pie sat on the table, steam slowly floating upwards from the crust's surface. The timer indicated that there was still an hour left to wait, which was a shame, because that pie smelled really, really  _good_.

Marinette slumped upstairs to the living room where her mother and father sat on the sofa, watching television. She draped herself dramatically across her mother's lap, bringing a hand to her forehead. " _Maman_ , I'll surely perish if I don't get a slice of that pie soon."

"Marinette," her mother tsked. "Stop being so melodramatic and sit up. The pie will be ready soon enough."

The girl huffed and sat up, sitting beside her mother. "I know, I know. It's just that I am so impatient. If only I were born with the gift of waiting silently. Wouldn't that be swell?"

Marinette busied herself with the T.V., watching whatever it was that appeared in the screen. After her parents left, she sprawled across the sofa, lying her head on a pillow.

Marinette awoke to shrill, piercing noise. She jolted out of her stupor, arms pushing her into a sitting position. It was the kitchen timer! Before her father could call her name, she zoomed down the stairs and into the bakery kitchen.

There was the pie, golden brown and finally (finally!) cool enough to eat.

Mr. Dupain-Cheng came down from the stairs, shaking his head at his daughter, an amused look on his face. "You and that pie," he sighed good naturedly.

Marinette picked up the pie, moving it to the counter by the knife drawer. "What can I say? I like pie!"


End file.
